


Queen of Nohr

by ladyhydrangea



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23654104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyhydrangea/pseuds/ladyhydrangea
Summary: After the untimely death of Xander during the campaign against the Hoshidan army, Camilla ascends the throne and becomes the new queen of Nohr. Once queen, she is visited by Charlotte, a beautiful border guard who may have her eyes set on the throne (and, perhaps, the queen's heart).
Relationships: Belka | Beruka/Luna | Selena, Camilla/Charlotte (Fire Emblem)
Kudos: 4





	Queen of Nohr

The velvet robe once worn by King Garon of Nohr weighed heavily on Camilla’s broad shoulders as she ascended the carpeted stairs to the throne, her thick curls of lavender hair swaying with every arduous step. The throne room was packed with a crowd of maids, butlers, servants, and retainers, but the absence of Xander and Elise made the room feel emptier than Camilla had felt during the campaign against Corrin and the Hoshidan army. Now, as she glanced into the steadily growing crowd of strangers behind her, she yearned for her family more than ever.   
Leo stood directly in front of the throne, his hand outstretched to meet Camilla’s as she neared him. The only sibling of hers aside from Corrin to survive the struggle, Leo had initially intended to ascend the throne in place of his elder sister; however, between Camilla’s unwillingness to place her brother in danger and Leo’s proclivity towards tactics rather than battle, it was clear that few were more suited to the throne than the doting-yet-deadly rose of the war. The people of Nohr needed stability, bravery, and compassion. They needed a leader who was every bit as merciless as they were kind, every bit as fierce as they were forgiving. They needed a queen.   
But could she do it?   
Nohr had lost the war, after all, and the reconstruction of an already destitute country seemed an incredibly daunting task, even for one who surmounted countless opponents on and off the battlefield. Was Camilla, who could not even sway Corrin to her side at the onset of the conflict, worthy of such a lofty position?   
The crowd did not grant her any room for doubt. A roar of applause and cheers echoed through the throne room the moment she took Leo’s hand in hers and turned to face her audience, anxious smile in tow. She stood roughly two inches taller than her younger brother, whose blonde bangs shone under the dim light of the ceiling lamp. He glanced up at her and offered a confident nod that urged Camilla to address her new subjects. She let go of Leo’s hand before he could feel hers quiver.   
“People of Nohr,” she began. “I stand before you today not as your queen, but as your ally. We may not have emerged victorious on the battlefield, but true victory is not won solely with blood. Through our struggles, through our hardships and losses, the spirit of Nohr remains as strong as a ballista and as bright as a polished jewel.”   
Camilla paused and let her eyes wander. Her gaze fell on her personal retainers, Selena and Beruka, who were watching their master keenly from the front of the crowd. Camilla noticed at once that the two were holding hands, and for what must have been the first time, she was happy that they had both found someone more important to them than their liege. A smile — a genuine one this time — stretched across Camilla’s cheeks, and she felt her confidence return to her, if only for a moment.   
Her eyes began to wander again, and amongst the crowd she saw Laslow mourning for his lost love, Effie and Arthur holding their heads high despite their grief, Nyx staring cooly at the throne. Camilla’s eyes floated across this sea of faces, some entirely new and some she had known since her youth, until finally she locked eyes with a blonde woman who seemed familiar. Where had she seen those golden curls, those rosy lips, those baby-blue eyes? Camilla couldn’t remember, but for the rest of the coronation, she wished that she could. 

* * *

Camilla always preferred her battle armor over anything else in her extensive wardrobe, so when she was finally able to sneak off to the training grounds three weeks into her new role, she was more than a little excited. With her retainers keeping an eye on the throne room, and with Leo attending to the more menial projects that had become routine for Camilla by now, she felt assured that a short training session would do little harm; after all, how else would she retain her toned phisique and keep her battle senses sharp?   
A meek queen is little use to an ailing country, after all, Camilla thought to herself as she approached the entrance to the training grounds, her axe gleaming under the soft glow of the lanterns on the wall beside her. Axe at her side and armor on her back, Camilla felt prepared for almost anything: a fight with a lion, a wrestling tournament, maybe even another coronation!   
But nothing, not even another war, could have prepared her for what she saw upon her entry into the training grounds: a gorgeous maiden with bountiful curls of golden hair that was accented with an elegant white ribbon. The woman wore silver armor on her shoulders and around her neck, but aside from these protective plates, she wasn’t wearing much else; in fact, her outfit looked more suited for the bedroom than the battlefield. Even her stomach was exposed, Camilla noticed. Overall, the woman looked quite dainty, but as Camilla’s gaze moved away from the woman’s face, the stranger’s abs betrayed her more delicate features.   
Beautiful AND strong, Camilla thought. Just how she preferred her women.   
Camilla strode over to the far side of the training grounds, beyond the wooden targets and the straw dummies, but she made sure to keep a close eye on the blonde woman, who sat on a stump near the door, dutifully wiping her axe clean with a small cloth. Camilla stared at the woman’s hands, which were both elegant and calloused. Camilla looked at her own hands, her slender fingers leading to her darkly painted nails, and wondered if the blonde’s hands would fit snugly in hers.   
But her curiosity would have to be sated another time. For now, nothing was coming between Camilla, her axe, and her choice of training dummy. 

* * *

“Lady Camilla!”   
Selena’s voice nearly made Camilla jump out of the throne. She had been in a daze ever since returning from the training grounds earlier that afternoon, and nothing — save from Selena’s unexpectedly shrill voice, of course — had been able to pull her out of her head for more than a few seconds.   
Selena approached Camilla with gusto and confidence, her scarlet twintails swaying with each step. Beruka, unsurprisingly, was not far behind, but while anyone could hear Selena’s heavy steps from a mile away, Beruka’s approach was silent and swift, her minty-blue hair just barely brushing against her dilapidated scarf.   
“What is it, my lovely retainers?” Camilla asked. She wasn’t expecting a visit from either of them until later that evening. Their sudden arrival set her on edge, and Camilla gripped an arm of the throne with one hand and the throat of her axe. Had something happened at the border?   
“Company,” Beruka said simply.   
“Oh?” Camilla loosened her hold on the weapon and moved her hand to caress her chin. She was always either bored with or disgusted by many of the guests who had visited her during the first couple of weeks as queen; the stuffy nobles and greedy merchants reminded her of the concubine wars that stained any positive memories she held of her childhood.   
“Yeah, Lady Camilla! There’s someone who really wanted to meet you,” Selena said. She grinned widely and gestured to the doorway, where the guest awaited permission to enter the room. A silhouette at first, the guest eased into the light, and her delicate appearance and dignified demeanor soon became fully visible to Camilla, who looked on with both awe and apprehension. How had this woman convinced Camilla’s two loyal retainers to grant her an audience with the queen, and why had she requested an audience to begin with? Moreover, why did she seem so familiar?  
As the woman neared the throne and leaned forward to bow, it hit her: this was one of the border guards Camilla met during the battle of Cheve, where Camilla and her siblings had been sent to suppress a small rebellion near the outer fringes of Nohr.   
Out of all the battles Camilla participated in during the campaign, the blood that was shed as the Nohrians grappled with the Chevois army was perhaps the most memorable for her, but it wasn’t because the rebels were particularly strong or because any major casualties occurred on the Nohrian side off things; instead, it was because Camilla bore witness to a fierce skirmish between the rugged, Wyvern-riding general of the Chevois army and the feminine, petite axe-wielder that now stood in front of her. As the border guard ceased her bow and stood to face Camilla, the queen recalled just how ruthless this lady was in the thick of battle, just how fearless she was when she went straight for the leader, and just how elegant she remained even while swinging an axe at her enemies. This woman paired poise with ferocity, savagery with grace, conviction with cuteness.   
“It’s a pleasure to be in your presence, Queen Camilla,” the battle maiden said, her gaze confidently meeting that of the queen’s. Her voice was every bit as sweet as Camilla expected it to be, but there was a slight edge to it, almost as if she was putting on airs, trying too hard to uphold a code of etiquette even Camilla was not aware of. “My name is Charlotte, and I’m one of the guards stationed near the border.”   
“Very nice to meet you, Charlotte,” Camilla responded gently. “But you are an awful long way from the border. What brings you to Windmire? Has something happened?”  
“Nothing too interesting,” Charlotte started. “Only…”  
Charlotte began to twist the curls in her hair with her fingers. She looked over at Camilla’s retainers and gave them each a sweet but transparent smile, one that both thanked Selena and Beruka for letting her in but also urged them to grant her and the queen some privacy. Beruka was a little slow on the uptake — she often was, when matters of the heart were involved — but Selena recognized that look in Charlotte’s eyes, and she tugged on Beruka’s arm playfully to get her partner’s attention.  
“Well,” Selena said, “me and Beruka should go pick up some supplies at the shop downtown. We’ll report back to you later, Lady Camilla!” With a wink, Selena left the room, Beruka following closely behind.   
Once her retainers had left, Camilla motioned for Charlotte to step forward. Charlotte obliged, her hand gently brushing some of her golden bangs to the side. Camilla noticed that Charlotte’s nails were painted a light blue, nearly the same shade of her eyes. She granted Charlotte a pleasant smile, one that prompted the border guard to speak.   
“Nothing is happening at the border, my queen,” Charlotte began. This was, of course, good news, but Charlotte’s tone implied that it was anything but. Charlotte let out an almost exaggerated sigh and pouted just a little, her hand now focused on twirling one of her luscious curls of amber.   
“That’s very good to hear, Charlotte. But why do you seem so displeased?”  
“Well,” Charlotte said, “a peaceful border means a broke border guard. There haven’t even been any bandit raids in weeks!” Charlotte’s usually gentle features contorted into something unruly, something savage and fierce. Camilla raised her eyebrows slightly, but lowered them before Charlotte could notice. A smile spread across the queen’s face, confident and coquettish.   
“I’ve hardly had to lift my axe for anything,” Charlotte complained. “I wish there was some other way I could be useful to you, Queen Camilla…”   
Charlotte tilted her head, and Camilla couldn’t tell if the look in the maiden’s eyes was one of bloodlust or desire of another sort. Either way, the border guard had certainly piqued the queen’s interest — and, if nothing else, had provided her with a diversion from her usual mundane routine.   
“I’ll see what I can do about moving your role closer to the castle,” Camilla said, her voice soft and caring. “I think you’ve earned a promotion after your performance in Cheve, my little battle maiden.”   
The praise caught Charlotte off guard, and her cheeks reddened at the notion that Camilla had witnessed her conquest against the wyvern general. That the queen was already privy to Charlotte’s existence hadn’t crossed her mind, and whether this would complicate matters or simplify things was unclear to her; after all, what use was there for a sweet, helpless facade if the queen could see through the veneer so aptly?   
“Thank you, your grace,” Charlotte said, choosing her tone carefully. Perhaps sneaking her way into the queen’s heart would prove to be a greater task than surmounting opponents on the battlefield. “Would you mind terribly if I visited you again in a week?” She bit her lip softly and locked eyes with Camilla, whose hands were busy adjusting her crown.   
“Of course, dear Charlotte,” Camilla said. “You and your axe are always welcome.”   
With that, the queen of Nohr and the border guard bid each other farewell, each woman entertaining the idea of a country led by two matriarchs.


End file.
